


UCS Horizon

by exileandtrust



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Boldly going forward because we legally cannot use reverse, Canon-Typical Violence, Strange New Worlds, space travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28707729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exileandtrust/pseuds/exileandtrust
Summary: The war is over and the exploration class ship, the UCS Horizon, makes its maiden voyage. The most technologically advanced ship in the fleet given a simple mission: to rebuild the Cybertronian knowledge base about the universe. The universe should be it's oyster.Unfortunately, it is commanded by Optimus Prime and Megatron.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> No clue what continuity this is (I’ve watched a lot but haven’t read any of the comics). It probably will lean slightly more towards G1 or Cyberverse with a healthy amount of headcanons mixed in. But anyway, this is purely for fun. So that’s my warning in advance. 
> 
> Also I picture Megatron with TFA Megatron’s voice. Doesn’t really have any effect on the fic, I’m just still captured by it. Anyone else? 
> 
> Edit: This work has been changed from a series to a single multi-chapter work. Note that each chapter is intended to be episodic. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. Enjoy.

**Captain’s Log, Epoch 4000.215**

_The United Cybertronian Starship, Horizon, has begun it’s historic voyage into space. Commanded by myself, Optimus Prime, seconded by Megatron, the Horizon’s mission is twofold._

_One, to further cement the peace between former Autobot and Decepticon forces. And two, to resume the former explorations of space. To seek new allies, new sources of energon, and to rebuild the library of knowledge that has been lost about our universe._

_Joining us as senior officers is Soundwave, as our chief of communication, Ratchet and Knockout as our chief medical officers, Arcee and Shockwave as our chief engineers, Bumblebee as our primary pilot, and Starscream in command of the tactical console._

_It is the crew and I’s shared hope that this mission will prove that our differences have been settled, and that there is more to our peace treaty than meets the eye._

_End log._

Optimus pressed down the record button on the side of his chair, seated in the center of the bridge. 

The UCS Horizon was a brand new ship built by the United Cybertron Engineering division, and it showed. Swooping black and silver chrome accents gave the ship a distinctly aerodynamic look, inside and out, and many components of the bridge had a blue under glow from their artfully exposed energon lines. 

Beside him, Megatron leaned against his seat and rested his chin on his hand. From where Optimus was sitting, his expression was effectively concealed by his arm mounted canon. 

“You should consider creating a log,” He offered. “It will be helpful for the council to have both of our accounts.” 

Megatron did not acknowledge him. His optics remained fixed on the view screen, showing the glittering star field in front of the ship. 

“Or provide an announcement to the ship of our current mission?”

More silence. 

“Commander-“

Megatron’s finger slammed down on the comm button with enough force to make the entire bridge crew go silent. 

A squeal of static sounded out through the speakers, like an orchestra tuning before a concert. 

“Crew of the UCS Horizon, this is your first officer speaking.” 

His voice carried the same accented drawl as it always had, the kind of tone one naturally found themselves leaning in to hear more of. 

“We will be scouting the planet ‘X-009-404’ for energon or,” his lips curled with restrained disgust, “Signs of organic life.

“— Furthermore, our Captain has delegated all disciplinary action to me. Therefore, mutiny, conspiratorial attempts, attacks on my life, sabotage, or petty theft will result in an expedient trip to the ship’s fusion chamber.” 

Megatron glanced over at Optimus, who’s mouth was hidden behind his ever present mask, but his optics were wide open. 

A smile pulled at Megatron’s lips. 

“Prepare for FTL drive activation. That is all.” 

He released the comm button and leaned back into his chair. Small cracks remained on the button’s surface. 

Optimus rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

The stunned silence remained until Bumblebee cleared his vocal component. He was seated at the pilot’s console in front of the command chairs, next to a very nervous looking Starscream sitting at the tactical console. 

“Uh, he’s kidding right?” 

“I most certainly am not,” Megatron snapped. “And if you must speak about me, have the decency to address me directly as your commander.”

Bumblebee spared a glance at Optimus, but Optimus simply nodded. 

“Bumblebee, are the coordinates locked in?”

The yellow bot nodded and spun back around to the console. 

“Yes Captain.”

“Is the FTL drive ready?”

Arcee nodded from a terminal behind the command seats. Her blue optics were bright and determined as ever, lingering on the ocean of stars on the view screen ahead. 

“Yes sir, FTL drive is ready to go.” 

“Excellent. Begin sequence.”

Starscream let out a ‘hmph’ noise before turning back around to his post, silver mechanical fingers dancing over the screen with soft clinks. 

“Shields raised.”

“Coordinates locked,” Bumblebee chirped. 

“FTL engaged,” Arcee finished. 

Soundwave from his post beside Arcee, watched as the stars in the star field began to elongate, and then one by one, disappear in a spectrum of light. 

As a testament to the ship’s construction there was not so much as a panel rattling as the ship sped through the galaxy. 

Optimus couldn’t help a smile beneath his face plate. Although no one could see it, the warmth saturated his eyes. “How long until we reach the system?” 

“About half a cycle,” Bumblebee reported. 

“Good. Commander, if we could meet in my ready room.” 

Megatron’s optics slowly moved to meet Optimus’, but his expression was unreadable. He didn’t argue, however, he simply stood, and walked towards the door connected to the bridge. 

Optimus steeled himself, and followed. 

“Starscream, you have command,” he managed to say without a hint of hesitation. 

Starscream’s reluctance evaporated, and with a kind of practiced elegance, he pushed away from his console to gracefully seat himself in Optimus’ chair. He made a show of crossing his legs over one another, and thoroughly getting comfortable. 

Bumblebee let out a long ex-vent. 

The doors closed behind Optimus and Megatron, leaving them alone in the ready room. It wasn’t much. A few chairs, a loaded bookcase, a desk, and a window into the darkness of space. 

Megatron stood with his hands folded behind his back, watching nothing through the window. 

Optimus was the first to speak. “Was that really necessary?” 

“What exactly are you referring to?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “The fusion chamber comment.”

Megatron glanced over his shoulder, red optics glinting. “It was only a joke, obviously.”

“I’m not an expert on jokes but it didn’t sound like one to me.” 

“And what if it wasn’t, _Captain_?” Megatron spun on his heel to face him. “You and I both know this crew is currently held together by a thin tether of false hope. A dose of harsh reality is needed for reinforcement, without it, this crew will disintegrate into chaos. We’re not here to be some grand gesture of ‘peace’ to Cybertronians.” 

He stepped closer and jabbed a finger in the middle of Optimus’ chest. 

“You, and I, and our motley little crew are here because the council could not arrest us or execute us without a riot. This is a convenient little way to get rid of the dull ache in their processor.” 

Optimus’ optics darkened. 

“You cannot say such things. The council’s motives are irrelevant.”

“But you do not disagree,” Megatron snapped. 

“We have a chance to make a real step forward. Our crew is counting on us for an example of how to get along with their former enemies.”

A bang sounded as Megatron slammed his fist down on the desk. His optics threatened to burn holes into Optimus’ plating. 

“How can you still be so naïve after all this time, this is exile!”

“This is a task we’ve been assigned,” Optimus managed to say calmly, despite grinding his denta together. 

He extended a mechanical hand to Megatron. “Despite our differences, we are an effective team. Your suspicion of the council is, perhaps, unfounded, but we can become more than the council ever imagined. Are you willing to try with me?”

Megatron’s eyes lingered on the outstretched hand. There were too many times to count that he had wished this exact moment would come, that he and his old friend could once again reunite. But now that it had finally arrived, his mouth could only curl with disdain. 

Megatron didn’t spare him a second look as he brushed past him. 

As soon as the ready room doors slid open, Starscream scrambled to get back to his post. 

“Lord- I mean, Commander Megatron, I was merely keeping watch over-“ 

“Silence,” Megatron grumbled, but it was without its usual bite. 

The doors closed again. Optimus’ hand slowly fell back to his side and clenched into a fist. 

**Captain’s log, supplemental.**

_This is going to be a very long trip._

The bridge was silent save for the humming of machinery, and the tap of metal fingers against the consoles. 

Like clockwork, the ship began to drop out of FTL half a cycle later. Stars reappeared as the ship slowed, until they had returned to being tiny points of light. 

Optimus stepped out time to see their final stop. 

A massive blue and yellow planet spun before them. Its dual moons rotated slowly around it, one a bright red, and the other a pearlescent green. The system’s young sun burned brightly, casting the entire system in a brilliant yellow light. 

Space travel had been performed only for necessity during the war, so little time was spent admiring the places where Decepticons and Autobots were to clash. But now, the entire bridge stared at the view screen. Optics wide and curious, drinking it in. 

“Have your systems crashed?” Megatron pointed to the monitor. “Perform energon and life scans at once!” 

“Small energon deposits found, sir.” Arcee reported. On her monitor was a rotating view of the planet, with several patches of glowing blue overlaid. “They’re mostly scattered but there’s one large deposit in a cave by the sea.”

Optimus tapped his faceplate. “What about the atmosphere?”

“Very thin sir, and nothing corrosive.” 

Megatron nodded thoughtfully, his hungry optics never leaving the surface of the planet. “Starscream, report.” 

Starscream’s claw like fingers tapped frantically at the monitor. “Uh- just, one minute sir.” 

“Starscream!”

“No signs of life, sir.” He let out a small, nervous laugh. “I apologize, this is a very different operating system than I’m accustomed to.” 

Megatron let out a noise between a growl and a ‘hmph,’ but leaned back into his chair. 

Optimus shook his head. “Bumblebee, bring us to the surface near the ocean. We will assess the situation below.” 

“Yes sir, beginning descent.” 

Starscream cocked an eyebrow. “Are you certain you can land this in one piece?”

Bumblebee rolled his optics. “Now that you mention it, not sure. Wanna get out and fly?”

“You cocky little-“

“Gentlemen, please.” 

Starscream gave Optimus a sour look over his shoulder, but thankfully, closed his mouth plate. 

The ship began its descent through the planet’s atmosphere. The darkness of space gave way to blueish ozone. Brilliant golden rays of sunlight shone between the clouds and pierced the edges with a silver lining. The colors of the planet became more vibrant with each meter they fell. Until the mountains were at level with the ship, and the white caps of the ocean could be seen crashing on its yellow sanded shores. 

The ship hovered above a sandy peninsula jutting into the sea, sending a cloud of dust flying into the air beneath it. 

Bumblebee managed to tear his optics away from the view screen long enough to activate the final landing sequence. 

Five pillars ejected from the bottom of the ship, and large, netted, hexagonal ‘feet’ unfolded out. The ship gingerly set itself atop its landing gear, its footprint calibrated not to sink into the sands. The thrusters powered down with a low hum. 

The ship had perched to be facing the horizon and the rising sun. The waves of the ocean glittered, before rolling lazily onto shore. 

“Megatron, Bumblebee, and Ratchet will be our landing party. Scout the caves and deliver a report on their mining viability by sundown.” 

Bumblebee’s face lit up. He would be the first to set foot on this beautiful new planet. Unfortunately, a growling noise from behind him cut off his daydreams of exploration glory. 

Megatron’s optics narrowed into slits. “If you’re doing this with the hopes of getting rid of me, you will be sorely disappointed.” 

“Not at all. I only wanted to allow you the honor of seeing this planet first,” Optimus said. 

“Hrm.” 

Unconvinced, Megatron stormed off the bridge, and Bumblebee reluctantly followed. 

Another button on Optimus’ chair provided a direct link to medbay. 

“Ratchet, come in.”

“Ratchet’s not at the phone right now, but what can I do for you, _mon capitaine_?” Knockouts voice purred through the line. 

“If you could tell him to meet the landing party at the ramp, I would appreciate it.”

“ _Anything_ for you.” Somehow, he could hear Knockout winking.

“Thank you.”

Optimus closed the line with a shudder. 

Soon the landing party was gathered in front of the ramp, extended into the soft sands below. 

“I’m impressed you agreed to come along,” Megatron said, giving Ratchet a once over. “You’re not exactly trailblazing material.”

Ratchet double checked the supplies in his med kit before dropping it into his sub space. “I’m just here to make sure your sorry aluminum aft gets back to the ship in one piece.”

“You would do well to mind your own, doctor.”

Bumblebee resisted the urge turn back right then. “Hey let’s take it easy, this could be fun.” 

Neither Ratchet nor Megatron looked particularly pleased at the idea. 

The three of them stepped off the ship and onto the foreign sand. Ratchet kept a scanner in his servo, and slowly waved it at his surroundings. 

“Welp, everything looks alright to me.” 

Megatron tapped the side of his helm, and then pointed inland. 

“The cave is that way, 400 meters.” 

With a click and the unmistakable sound of rustling servos, Ratchet was in vehicle mode before Megatron had even finished speaking. 

“The last thing you want, or I want to hear you complain about, is sand in your joints. Take a drive.” Ratchet paused. “Oh, that’s right.” The smugness was nearly dripping off his vocalizer. “You don’t have a vehicle mode, commander.” 

Megatron’s brow quirked with annoyance, and he briefly wondered if there was a way to get rid of the ambulance once and for all. 

Before he could snap, Bumblebee folded down into a sporty yellow Camaro, and flipped open his passenger door. 

“You can uh, ride with me, if you want.”

No words formed in Megatron or Ratchet’s processors for a moment. Megatron regained his composure first. 

“That – will work.” 

He kicked himself off of the ground, neatly folded into a sleek, silver pistol, and landed in the passenger seat. 

He could still hear Ratchet’s suppressed laughter through the comms. 

They sped off towards the caves, kicking up yellow sand into the early morning light. It would have been terrible to walk on, but it made for interesting driving. 

They stopped just short of the cave’s entrance. Ratchet flipped back to his robot mode, and Bumblebee soon followed, Megatron in hand. 

“Uh, commander, do you want me to put you on the ground or?” 

“No thank you, just toss me upwards a few meters and I will resume my robotic form.” 

“Uh, right. Here goes nothing.” 

His toss turned out to be more of a throw. The gun went sailing upwards into the atmosphere while a strangled gasp escaped Bumblebee. 

Megatron transformed in a stretching motion, far higher than he anticipated above the ground. Ratchet would have laughed at his expression had he not been so concerned with where he was about to fall. 

Megatron landed with a heavy crash. It was enough to cause a rumbling deep in the cave and cover his companions in sand. He had managed to land on his pedes, but his glare was hot enough to melt steel. 

“I said a few _meters_.” 

“Right- I’m sorry.” 

He opened his mouth to argue further but Bumblebee was not even meeting his optics. In fact, his shoulders were sagged, and he appeared truly remorseful. 

Curiouser and curiouser. 

Ratchet dusted as much of the sand off himself as he could, but his mood remained darkened. 

“Great. Let’s just get this over with.” 

Ratchet kicked on his headlights and they proceeded into the cave. The walls and floor were made of a solid yellow stone, that became increasingly more orange as they proceeded inwards. 

The cave widened with every step, and enormous orange, octagonal crystal structures jetted out between the wall and the ceiling. The crystals connected the floor and ceiling diagonally but left enough room for the bots to get through. It gave the appearance of a great hallway that had been turned slightly on its side.

A small scanner in Ratchet’s hand beeped every few seconds, until it began to increase in frequency. 

“Up ahead.”

They were three children in that moment, feet dashing on an alien world, optics alight as they followed the treasure map to the X. 

The deeper and narrower the cave became, the redder tinge the crystals had with marbled purple stripes. One color transitioned to another the further they went. 

Soon they had to slow down to a crawl just to get through, squeezing their bodies between the purple crystals. Ratchet led the charge, but even walking with his shoulders edged out proved to be a challenge. 

Megatron vented with frustration. “Ratchet, stop.”

“Why-“

Megatron’s arm canon charged with a whine, the glowing barrel pointed directly at him. 

“No-!”

Megatron blasted the crystals squeezing Ratchet’s chassis, and the line of crystals behind those. 

Ratchet kept his eyes screwed shut and patted his armor, somewhat surprised it was still in one piece. 

His headlights illuminated the cave enough to see Megatron’s wickedly amused smile. 

“I simply thought we could use some of the room. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Ratchet grit his denta together and spun around.

“Startle me?! You pointed a gun in my face!” 

“Around your face, and besides.” He gestured to the tunnel. “We can now travel with your headlights forward.” 

“That’s an excuse! When we get back to the ship I-“

“You’ll what? Tell Optimus?”

Ratchet clenched his fist tight enough to make his joints pop like violin strings. 

“Hey uh, don’t mean to interrupt but, if the cave gets small again maybe we can just. Mass convert?” 

The two of them turned to look at Bumblebee, who was scratching the back of his neck. 

Megatron was the first to speak. “Ahem- You’re... Certainly right. Come, let us proceed.”

Ratchet gave Megatron one last acidic glare before stomping off. 

They remained silent the rest of the way, until they came to an opening in the caves. 

They found themselves standing beneath a massively tall ceiling, in what appeared to be a small city. The buildings were tiny, almost human sized, and built with an orange crystal cut into blocks. In the middle of each building, and lining the walkways, were glowing blue blocks of energon. 

The three of them stared. They appeared as giants in the middle of a toy set. 

“We should convert so we don’t damage anything,” Bumblebee offered. 

Megatron studied the buildings with his hands on his hips. “Agreed. Everyone, shift to 1/30th.” 

Each of them twisted, their plates shifting and moving into sub space, until they appeared as tall as the door frames in the little city. 

Ratchet stretched. 

“I’m getting too old for this.” 

“Uhhhh.” Bumblebee kneeled to get a closer look at the energon bricks. At first glance they appeared dirty, but upon closer inspection swirled designs, like waves, had been engraved in the surfaces. “It looks like they’re just here for decoration.” 

“Is anyone there!” Megatron called. 

Only his echo returned to him. 

Aside from the glowing energon veins embedded in the city, there was neither light nor any signs of life. 

“We should go back and report this to Optimus.” Ratchet held his scanner out in front of him. The beeping had since stopped. “He may not want to harvest it.”

“Nonsense. It’s clearly not in use, and Starscream already confirmed that there is no life on this planet.” Megatron’s fingers scraped the sides of a brick, and effortlessly pulled it out. “It’s not much, but it should be enough to power a few weapons.” 

“—H’talastu right there!” 

Their auto translate kicked in after the first word. An ancient language, with almost no change in dialect for a million years. 

A boy stood, with faded yellow hair and blue skin. A shade that looked as though it had been made of creamer mixed with laundry detergent. He had on tattered cargo pants, and a loose white shirt that had been tied in the middle. 

His eyes were completely white, but still fierce, and in his hand, he had a glowing blue spear. Wooden, with a chunk of energon carved into an arrowhead at the tip. 

Ratchet took the lead, his hands up. 

“We mean you no harm.”

“Stop! Stop!”

The boy stepped closer. He was taller than Ratchet’s current form. He kept the spear pointed at Ratchet’s throat, and ran a finger across one of his panels. 

He rubbed the yellow dust between his fingers, his malice replaced with curiosity. 

“You are from the surface.” 

“Yes, we landed here in our ship. We didn’t realize anyone else was here.” 

“Why did you come?”

Bumblebee stepped forward, and pointed to the bricks in the walls. 

“This stuff, we call it energon, and it’s our source of uh, food. We were looking to harvest it.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes hardened at the sight of the broken brick in Megatron’s hand. 

Fearlessly, he yanked it away, and frantically began trying to press it back into it’s place. 

“You cannot have it. Leave. Now!” 

Bumblebee stood over the boy, watching him try to repair it. 

Ratchet kept his hands raised. “We also came here to learn, we would like to talk to you some more.” 

“This is wind language. Leave.” 

Megatron raised an eyebrow. “Wind language?”

Ratchet sighed. “He means lies.” 

“Hertcarzen.”

The four of them looked up. A being very similar to the boy stood at the end of the road but he was far older. He had a white beard and was hunched over a cane laced with energon. 

The boy rose and bowed. 

“Master, I was just telling them to leave.” 

“No, they may stay for a while.” 

“What?!”

The man hobbled closer, and then promptly thwacked Megatron on the shin. 

“You dare-!”

“These things, they have been here before. There is no harm in speaking to them.” 

The boy, Hertcarzen, grumbled something under his breath that the translation program could not catch. 

“I apologize. He is a very protective boy, it is his job.”

Bumblebee waved it off. “It’s fine.” 

“My name is Hertzuan. If you all would follow me.” 

He led them deeper into the city, always keeping between the glowing veins of energon, and despite his reliance on the cane he was rather quick. 

“This city was built to house the last of our species after the tidal war, when the Octillians threatened to eradicate us. 

A metal titan, one of your fathers I assume, taught us about a repellent which would ward off our enemy and allow us to live in peace.”

His fingers brushed against the energon bricks in the walls, fingernails catching on the intricate wave carvings. 

“But our resources were stretched afterwards, and we were forced to go into stasis.”

He stopped at one of the houses, and gently nudged open the door. 

A puff of dust escaped, and inside, there sat a family of four against the wall. They appeared as perfect statues made of marbled blue stone. 

Ratchet carefully stepped inside and waved his scanner over the figures. The details in their faces were perfect, even down to their eyelashes. 

“It’s true,” he said, his eyebrows rising. “It’s some form of petrification, but they still have low brain activity.” 

Bumblebee kept his distance, but his optics watched them with fascination. 

“We have the ability to temporarily return to our base elements, and so our people have slumbered for two million years. Hertzacrsen is the descendant of the guardian, and I, am the original king of this settlement.” 

Ratchet hurried out, logging his scanner, and Hertzuan slowly closed the door. 

“The prophecies said you would return, just when we needed you most.” 

“Explain yourself.”

* * *

Optimus tapped his servo against the chair, optics intently focused on the view screen. 

The ocean gleamed right behind the nose of the ship. Planets with oceans had always fascinated him, especially ones with a water majority. It made the land feel as though it were a traveler in some great abyss. 

Despite the beauty outside, he had ordered the crew to remain stationed. There was a strange feeling in the back of his processor. 

To what he could attribute that to, he was not entirely sure. The crew walked as though they did not have faith in the ground beneath them. At any moment, he could see they were waiting for the final spark that would ignite the flames of war again. To them this ship was merely a ticking time bomb. 

It ached his spark to see it. The council’s orders had been clear, move forward and don’t look back. There was too much data to recover to waste any time, and they had not asked for volunteers. Certainly, he knew of bots who would have rather stayed, but the doors closed before they could object. 

He only dismissed the possibility of exile because of his close ties to the council. There was great concern over the missing data. They had no way of knowing if their journey forward was doomed to fail, or inevitably going to reap rewards. Recovering that knowledge was an important task that they would not have entrusted to just anyone. 

In the distance there was a disturbance on the waves. 

He kept his eyes focused on the surface. Another splash. Closer this time. 

“Starscream,” Optimus started slowly. “You’re certain there’s no life on this planet?” 

The seeker whipped around with a snarl. 

“Of course not! You doubt that I can work a simple computer?”

“I know you are highly skilled, but that is no simple computer.” He pointed to the view screen. “I’ve seen movement on the water.” 

“That’s absurd, there’s nothing out there. But leave it to you to have damaged optics.” 

Starscream slowly turned back to the view screen and narrowed his eyes. 

Another splash. Nearly to shore. 

“Well....” He cleared his throat and began rapidly typing again. “I suppose I could rerun the scan.”

The bridge was silent, save for the sounds of the machines. Optimus kept a steady gaze on the water. 

“Aha!” Starscream poked at the computer again. “It seems there is a bit of life here, underwater and PriMUS WHAT IS THAT-“ 

A beige tentacle shot out of the water and slapped against the front of the ship with a squelching sound. Suction cups pulsed and pushed against the view screen. 

“It seems this planet is inhabited,” Optimus said calmly. 

“WHAT IN THE SLAGGING PITS!” 

The suction cups split down the center and opened, revealing several mouths with several pairs of pointed teeth inside of them. There was a horrible scratching noise as it dragged its teeth across the hull, trying to pry a plate off. 

Starscream, naturally, screamed. 

Even Optimus winced. “Soundwave, have you heard anything from the away team?” 

“Negative. No signals detected.” 

The tentacle continued its assault, teeth screeching against the plating. Optimus could feel the noise in his denta. 

“Who cares about the away team?” Starscream screeched. “We need to leave!” 

Another hard thud. Then another, as two more massive tentacles took hold of the ship. 

Then, silence. 

“Maybe it’s just saying ‘hello’?” Arcee offered. 

Soundwave shook his helm. “Greeting: unlikely.” 

The ship gave a jerk, and nearly knocked everyone off their feet. 

“Oh no.” Starscream shook his head. “No, no-no, no. No.” 

And then, a new, deeper screeching sound. Behind the tentacles, it seemed like the ocean was getting closer.

“It’s pulling us in!” Starscream screeched. 

“Captain, I can see them!” Arcee tapped frantically on her monitor. “The away team is returning!” 

Another, smaller view port appeared on the main monitor showing the back of the ship. In the distance, two cars raced against the desert sand. 

Optimus stared at them intently. “How far away are they?” 

“About thirty seconds, sir!” 

There was another thwap against the hull, and a deep, chest rattling groan. Optimus’ fingers dug into the chair at the sound. 

“Starscream, prepare to launch as soon as the team is back on board.” 

“We can’t wait that long!”

“That was an order!” 

A figure began to rise slowly from the water. It was large enough to be hued by the skies in the distance, but even the atmosphere couldn’t stop them from clearly seeing four, glowing, white eyes. 

Even merely looking at it, Optimus felt his whole body freeze, down to the servos in his fingers. It was as though he was being watched through the cameras, and yet, looked through. 

They broke eye contact only when the ship’s nose began to turn downwards towards the sea. It was enough to pitch Optimus from his seat, and fall forward into the back of Starscream’s chair. 

Arcee hooked her legs under her console and managed to stay grounded, her optics narrowed at the screen. 

Outside the ramp was open, but slowly tipping upwards with the rest of the ship. 

“We’re gonna have to jump!” Ratchet called. 

The ramp kept lifting higher, and higher. 

“I’m really sorry about this!” 

Bumblebee’s door turned into an arm, and he flung Megatron’s alt mode into the hatch, before transforming himself. 

He grabbed onto the top of the ramp, and swung himself onto it with a clank. 

Ratchet tumbled forward on two legs and pushed up with all his strength towards the ramp. His servo’s scratched the scuffed metal, before breaking loose. 

It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his vents as he began to fall. 

A silver hand snatched his wrist. 

Ratchet yelped and looked up. 

Megatron grabbed him with a second hand, and almost effortlessly pulled him onto the tipping ramp. 

Bumblebee was beside him in an instant, and the two of them stared at Megatron. 

But he only looked annoyed. 

“Get in there and tell that fool to take off!” 

Bumblebee scrambled inside the tilting ship, his legs barely having traction as Megatron slammed the close button. The ramp slowly slid back, right as a tentacle slithered beneath the ship. 

“Captain! We’re back!” 

Megatron’s lip curled up as he readied his canon at the squishy, slithering thing. It was beige in color, but it’s skin was translucent enough to see red veins pulsating underneath it. 

“Disgusting.” 

His canon fire was white hot, and burned a hole into the tentacle. It flopped like a worm dying on the pavement, choked noises coming from all of its suction cup mouths. 

The door closed before he could see it properly wither. 

The ships nose was now completely submerged underwater, and almost perpendicular to the ground. Starscream’s chair groaned with the weight of him and Optimus clinging to it for dear life. 

“They’re back - Fire thrusters!” 

“Frag yes!” 

Starscream punched the console. 

There was a low whine, and another groan, and the ship began to hover, shaking the whole time. Optimus fell on his aft as the gravity returned to a normal direction, but the tentacles kept a tight grip on the USC Horizon. 

“Full speed ahead!” 

The rockets blared, and the tentacles pulled, stretched like taffy around the ship’s hull, farther and farther. 

They gave way with a snap and the remnants fell back into the ocean. The creature thrashed, and screamed, it’s red blood pluming underwater. 

The UCS Horizon shot back off into space.

* * *

The damage done to the ship was minimal and was repaired within days. The crew’s morale however, had been shaken. 

Optimus had remained in his ready room for some time, waiting for Megatron. He had agreed to provide a log of what happened on the planet but had yet to do so. 

It should not have irked Optimus that on top of that, he was late. 

Almost thirty minutes after their arranged time the doors slid open. Megatron strode in. Confident and menacing as usual. 

He took a seat on the couch beside the window and made himself at home. But he never met Optimus’ eyes. 

The two sat in silence for a while, watching the stars pass out the window. 

“So,” Optimus started. His hands hovered over the keyboard. If Megatron wasn’t going to write a report, he still had to submit something to command. “What happened down there?”

“Very little.” 

“Can you be more specific?” 

Megatron looked put out to even need to talk. 

“Specifically,” he growled, “the planet was _not_ uninhabited. That oaf Starscream messed up the scan.”

“Noted. Continue.” 

“We went into the cave, and we found a civilization. A culture advanced enough to understand fundamental science and create complex arts. Apparently, some of our kind had visited them before and assisted with their food crisis. 

But their progress was cut short by the appearance of the ‘Klavishier,’ a Octillian monster from the deep sea. They believed the Cybertronians would return to help, so they waited, but no one answered their calls. 

They built a protective grid around their city using raw energon, it blocked the monster from sensing them, but they could no longer scavenge the surface. Their only option was to starve, or to go into a deep stasis. Stone like.” 

Megatron’s fingers curled into a fist. “And until that thing is dead, in suspended animation they will remain.”

Optimus stopped typing, and set down his data pad. Megatron’s expression was familiar again, ever the gladiator looking for a people to liberate. 

Bumblebee’s report had revealed a planet with a rich and subtle culture. One that Megatron showed a keen interest in. Sitting before him now, he believed it. 

“What do you recommend we do, commander?”

“Officially? Nothing.” 

“And unofficially?”

Megatron looked at him for the first time in days. 

“Kill the blasted thing.” 

Optimus shook his head. “You know I could never allow that. Monstrous or not, it’s a form of life. And that’s to say nothing of how it would affect the ecosystem.” 

With the mask on, it was nearly impossible to discern Optimus expression. To the untrained eye, he appeared neutral and calm as ever. But Megatron had seen that look in his optics before. 

Beneath that mask, he was smiling. 

“My shift ends at 1000 hours, at which point you will be Captain. I will return to my habsuite and recharge for oh. 5 hours?” 

Megatron’s optics widened slightly. “The trip will take 6 hours.” 

“Did I say 5? I meant 8.” 

Megatron studied his optics, but they revealed nothing more. Instead, he smiled. But it had the quality of a cat who had finally spotted the mouse. 

“Pleasant recharge, Captain.” 

The black box recorded that at 16:32, the USC Horizon briefly re-entered the atmosphere. It fired four shots, and then immediately zoomed away again. 

What it did not record was a once sleeping race slowly thawing. It did not catch the small gasps as dry stone became life again, the laughter, the dancing. The coronation of its guardians. The flowers had bloomed again for the first time in eons as the land healed. 

And it did not capture the mural etched into the cave walls, filled with pictures of a gallant ship and three strange men, slaying the monster. 

**Commander’s Log, Epoch 4001.778**  
_We arrived at X-009-404, found nothing, and left. This ship is as boring to command as it is to stare at._

_End log._


	2. Advancement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Soundwave wanted was some quiet.

**Captain’s log, Epoch 4008.899**

_As much of our ancient data about the universe was lost in the war, the efforts to repair and update records remains a top priority._

_To that end, we have arrived at the planet, Phomia, to investigate. Like many such entries, our records only give us a name and a location. The rest has been corrupted._

_It’s possible we may be reuniting with friends of our species. It’s equally possible that we meet bitter enemies. I will remain hopeful for peace until then._

_End log._

The bridge was quiet during delta shift. Soundwave preferred it that way. He had set the buttons on his console to emit no noise. So, if he pressed the screen with care, he could preserve the silence. 

When his primary function did not occupy him, he engaged the ship’s scanners in his secondary interest: deep space signals. 

Though truly there was no good term for it. It was not something made by an intelligent species intentionally. 

Each time a signal was sent through space it could not travel linearly through its substrate. It bent and curved around planets and suns, leaving behind a residue of sound in their orbits. 

Retrieving the original intent of the message was difficult. It was a universe wide game of telephone, except everything that emitted some form of radiation could influence the sound. 

Reconstruction was difficult, frustrating, nigh impossible for anyone else. But the patient reaper always kept the soul. 

With an audial receptor delicately tuned to the sounds of space, he waited. 

Sometimes the sounds were clipped, voices and chatter that had been left out in the vacuum. Encrypted, decrypted, a foreign language, it did not make a difference to him. Just finding something discernible was like digging up a treasure. 

There was a blip in the static. Then another. Arrhythmic, like a muffled voice. 

He was close to finding another one. With his audial receptors turned up all the way, he tried to home in on it. 

“Soundwave, what are you still doing here?” 

Starscream’s voice threatened to blow out his receptors. He slammed a hand against his audials to lessen their sensitivity. 

Starscream stood on the bridge with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. 

“Well? Did you fall asleep up here?”

“Negative.” 

Starscream rolled his optics. “You’re dismissed. Leave.” 

Soundwave weighed his options. If he stayed the probability was high he would be forced to engage in one sided conversation with him, which meant no further signal exploration. If he left, he could refuel, which was becoming more prudent. 

Soundwave opted to leave. Quickly. 

Starscream watched him go with an eyebrow raised. 

It was early enough in the shift that he was the only one on the bridge, which was exactly why he came. 

“It seems I am once again in command.” He perched himself on the captain chair with his wings perked. 

Soundwave hurried down the corridor with his helm rigidly facing forward. The few bots he encountered either ignored him or made an active effort to stay as far away as possible.

The mess hall was empty, save for the ever-present Maccadam polishing a glass at the bar. 

“Soundwave,” the old bot said warmly. “Good to see you. I was wondering when you were going to refuel again.” 

Soundwave nodded. He did not need to be particularly social around Maccadam, and for that he was grateful. Instead, he raised two fingers. 

“Double, on it.” 

A tall glass of energon came sliding down the bar. It was high enough in quality to have a sort of shimmering look to it, and a thickness not unlike a syrup. 

Maccadam set a long straw down beside it with an odd, hooked shape. 

“I know how you guys are about those masks.”

Soundwave stared at the straw. 

His first instinct was suspicion, but there was no reason for Maccadam to poison him. He had nothing to gain from it besides bragging rights, but he hardly ever talked about himself. 

So, then it likely was just kindness. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

He hooked the straw over his mask. Soundwave’s optics wandered the room as he sipped. Well refined energon tasted even better than it looked, even if it was a little rich for his tastes. Thick, just slightly sweet, and cold was his preference. 

The mess hall was built beneath the ship’s port wing, the underside of which could be seen through the enormous windows that lined the wall. It was a room kept mostly dim, save for the amber under glow of the tables. 

Had he a firm grasp on the meaning of the word ‘cozy,’ it would have been an apt descriptor. 

As the morning droned on, the mess hall slowly began to fill with other bots. Conversation, and laughter replaced the hum of the engines. 

He watched one table where a blue femme and an orange mech sat. They were engaged in a game involving a cube and several diamonds hovering above it. The projection shifted each time one of them tapped a diamond, causing blue or orange to spread over the surface. 

The femme scratched her chin and tapped on another marker. Instantly the whole cube turned yellow, and she burst out laughing while the mech pumped his fist victoriously. 

He heard the footsteps of a smaller mech approach, and then take a seat beside him. 

Knockout leaned back with his arms resting on the bar, a glass of energon dangling from his fingers. 

“They’re playing Falier. It’s a horrible game, I absolutely never win.” He lolled his head towards Soundwave. “I find it distasteful to drink alone. I hope you don’t mind my company.”

Soundwave shook his helm slowly. He preferred silence above all, but Knockouts voice had never been offensive to his audial sensors the way Starscream’s was. 

“Good!” His red eyes wandered to the empty glass, and the oddly bent straw. “Still can’t retract that mask? I could help with that.” 

“Negative. Assistance: not required.”

Knockout raised an eyebrow. “Why do you keep it on then? I’m your physician— I happen to know you have a face under there and that it’s not a half bad one.” 

“Noise dampening.”

“Aha, that I can believe.” Knockout swirled his energon. “Your vox is also artificial, isn’t it? And also right abooouut..” His claws walked along Soundwave’s chassis with a clinking noise until they stopped underneath his chest, and towards his left. “Here?”

It was getting too noisy in the mess hall. Rather than grace his question with any form of an answer, Soundwave got up and left. 

Knockout shrugged. “Touchy subject?” 

Soundwave returned to the bridge at exactly 0700 hours. The bridge crew had arrived before himself. 

Optimus was already seated in his chair with a datapad balanced on his leg. Megatron sat beside him, staring broodingly at the view screen. The star field was visible and racing past them, so he concluded that the FTL drive was off. 

Meanwhile, Bumblebee and Starscream were engaged with their consoles, and Arcee was searching the database for any more records on their destination planet. 

He resumed his station. 

The morning passed quickly. Few words of relevance to him were passed around the bridge at a respectful volume, save for anything that left Starscream’s mouth. 

The planet appeared in the view screen in the early afternoon. 

Phomia was unassuming. It was a dark shade of green with black swirling in its atmosphere and surrounded by grey rings. It had no natural satellites or planetary neighbors, and its old sun burned a dim white from a great distance. 

Hanging in space, it somehow seemed very lonely. 

Megatron regarded it carefully. “Life signs?” 

Starscream was quick to type. “Yes, millions but unfortunately organic.” 

Arcee glanced up. “There’s also signs of infrastructure on the surface, buildings made of metal.”

“A civilization out of the Bronze Age then.” Optimus tapped on his datapad. “Hail the planet, see if there’s any signals.”

Soundwave turned back to his console and began sending a general greeting in different languages. A short, high energy signal that would only go as far as the planet. 

But something odd occurred. 

Each time a signal was sent out, he could often pick something back up. A whisper of it trapped in the planet’s gravity, an echo. 

Not even his own signal returned to him. 

Checking on the equipment revealed that a signal had indeed been sent out from the ship and the transmission dish performance was nominal. 

He tried a lower frequency. Nothing. Then something higher. Still nothing. Hertz by Hertz he experimented, but each ping was absorbed by the planet. The bridge watched him with expectant eyes, but he could only shake his head. 

“No reply. Signal anomaly detected: Nothing penetrates the atmosphere.”

“There’s nothing in the atmosphere that should prevent anything from going through, it’s nitrogen, hydrogen, and some carbon dioxide.” Arcee noted. 

“It seems we’re going to have to greet them in person then.” Optimus stood, and turned to face them with his hands braced against the chair. “Arcee, Soundwave, I would like you both to take a shuttle down. It could be dangerous to these organisms if they cannot receive messages from space-faring races. Your goal will be to investigate the cause of the anomaly and establish first contact. Try to speak to one of their leaders and arrange passage for the ship diplomatically.”

Megatron rolled his optics. “Yes, simply ask any street urchin if you may meet their leader. That will go over swimmingly.”

Optimus gestured to the planet. “What do you suggest then?” 

“Infiltrate. Learn the structure of government. Trying to meet their leader right off the bat may make them suspicious of you, rightfully so, and you may have to deal with the consequences.” Megatron aligned his fingers beneath his chin. “Gather information on them for now.” 

Optimus was silent for a moment. “Alright. Use your best judgement. Do you both accept?”

“Of course!” Arcee said, as seriously as she could, despite the look in her eyes like a little girl let loose in a toy store. “I won’t let you down.” 

Soundwave simply nodded. Optimus’ optics lingered on him for a second longer. 

Megatron stared at the view screen, and only slightly turned his head to address the other two. “Since we have no communication, come back within 12 hours. If you fail to do so, we will be coming to get you.”

‘By any means necessary’ was left unsaid, but Soundwave knew it to be there. 

What others saw in Megatron to be cold and unyielding, Soundwave found to be immovable and safe. Megatron was the constant he could count on.

* * *

He and Arcee boarded the shuttle within the hour and set out for the planet. She took the pilots seat, with her scientific scan data projecting above the console. 

The trip into orbit was silent. Arcee kept a laser focus on the window and her read outs, and Soundwave was content to keep to his own, sending out pings and logging data every meter of their descent. 

The green atmosphere’s milk-like quality began to lift as they approached the surface. And then the clouds lifted all at once. 

Beneath the green sky was a red landmass set in an emerald green sea. And built in a circular range of mountains was a city of black metal. 

“That’s one of the larger cities I found, I’m going to land inside the crater. Have you heard anything yet? Permission to land or where we should go?”

Soundwave shook his head. As before, the signal was absorbed into nothing it seemed, except the nothing was now wrapped around the ship. In all directions there was perfect absorption. 

Perfect silence. 

“Negative. Anomaly persists.”

The shuttle rumbled. 

“I don’t like this.” Arcee looked to him, a hard look in her optics. They both understood what that meant, no contact with the ship. No calling for help, just a promise to rendezvous in 12 hours should it all go wrong. 

Another rumble, and then a pop. 

Arcee typed furiously on her console, her optics wide and frantic. “We just lost our navigation, and we’re about to lose our scanners altogether.” 

Soundwave’s panel exploded into sparks, but he managed to shield his face. 

“More systems are failing- We should turn back.” 

“Negative. Shuttle: functional.” 

Another pop, and sparks began to rain from the ceiling. Arcee flinched and kept her head down. 

“What the hell is causing this?” 

“Unknown.” 

“We just lost scanners and upward thrusters,” she said slowly. “We don’t have any choice but to land now.” 

Though the city looked even less inviting from halfway down, there was still some faith in his chest. Faith that should the worst occur, Megatron would come. 

Until that need arose however, his curiosity was abound. 

“Proceed to land.” 

Arcee let out a breath and steeled herself. Her curiosity swallowed her fear in that moment. There was something going on here, too strange for her to look away from. 

The shuttle was forced to land on the edge of the cup surrounding the city. As soon as the landing gear hit the surface, the thrusters panel popped, and smoke filled the cabin. 

Arcee waved it away with a sigh. “There goes our ride home.” 

“Communications: functional.” 

Soundwave continued to ping. No response.

“We’re really in it now.” Arcee pushed away from the sparking panel. “We’re going to have to find a way to repair the shuttle, somehow. Or get through the signal blockers to let them know what’s happening.” 

“Agreed. Recommended direction: city center.” 

“Yeah.” 

Arcee stood on the edge of the crater and looked out. The city was placed right in the center of it and spread outward. But she could see no signs of life in the red desert. 

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Megatron on his tactics. We should try to scan an alt mode from this planet as soon as we can and blend in for a while.” 

He agreed with Megatron wholeheartedly. 

“Or at least, I should,” she mused. “If you keep your alt mode as a stereo of some sort I can carry you around.” 

That worked, and it would be easy. If he could scan their cultures equivalent of a stereo, or even a computer he would be set. 

“Acceptable.” 

“What about your minis?” 

His hand subconsciously touched the glass panel of his chest. It was completely empty. 

“Inquiry: irrelevant.” 

Arcee did not look any less concerned but decided not to press him further. 

To say she was tolerant of him was an overstatement. Countless times those blank, shaded optics had appeared in her worst nightmares. Ready to eliminate her with no emotion, but over time, she found less of a cold-hearted killer, and more of just an odd bot. Still, some nights she could see that face in the dark. 

They took the rations and supplies from the shuttle that would fit in their subspaces and stepped off the shuttle. 

The red dirt was dry beneath their feet, and the desert was nearly empty. Save for the occasional green sprig sticking out of the ground, and the black city in the distance. 

With no other graceful option, they slid down the crater walls into the thick of it. It was only when Arcee’s feet touched the bottom did she realize just how massive the crater was. 

The sun was beginning to set, but the city remained ever dark. Arcee folded into a car, and Soundwave folded into a stereo that sat neatly in her passenger side. In the cover of night, they travelled forward. 

As they approached the city, black monoliths began to appear beside the road and strewn out in the plains. They jutted out into the dark green sky, but otherwise had no presence. No sound, no activity. 

“This place gives me the creeps,” Arcee said flatly. “Can you scan those things?” 

“Affirmative. No electromagnetic presence.” 

“They’re being dampened too.” 

She stopped in front of a particularly large one and shined her headlights on it. Patterns were etched into its surface but eroded by the wind. 

She glanced at the field now behind them, littered with so many of the monoliths as to appear like a city in every direction. 

Each one stood tall, and proud, and decidedly dead. Arcee felt a chill down her spinal strut. 

“I haven’t seen a single thing suitable for a scan besides these, and I’m not going to turn into one of those.” 

That had been Soundwave’s assessment as well. Though he could not see well over the top of Arcee’s doors in his stereo form, his audio receptors were sharp as ever, and he had not detected so much as a hum from another machine from all the miles they had driven. 

“Should we... Keep going?” 

“Affirmative. 19 hours remaining.” 

Arcee made a sound like a huff. “Okay, but seriously I don’t like this place.” 

“Favor is irrelevant. Data: not yet acquired.”

“Are you always this fun or just around me?”

Soundwave detected 38% contempt, 15% resignation, 20% joviality, and trace amounts of other emotions. 

Conclusion: Sarcasm. 

“Negative.”

A recording of a very put-out Knockout hummed through his speakers. 

_“— No Soundwave, you’re a real joy and a delight.”_

There was a stunned silence, and then Arcee burst into electric laughter. 

After hours of driving through sparse monoliths, the city was ever closer, close enough to make out the patterns on the buildings themselves to be rudimentary circuitry. Worn down by wind and sand. The tallest buildings were in the center, and they cast a shadow over the rest of them. 

Arcee parked beside one of them. 

“We still don’t have a suitable alt mode,” Arcee said with a sigh. “I don’t know how we should proceed.”

Figures appeared from the darkness from between buildings, like termites crawling out of wood. 

They were taller than a human, wearing long, dark hoods. Spears and knives stuck out from their cloaks and were pointed at them. 

When the wind blew up the hoods of their capes just right, Arcee could make out three, glowing red eyes on almost each and every one of them. 

A particularly fierce one stepped forward, his four red eyes trained on them, and a peculiar spear. 

“Blete h’gartuos right now! Get out of the car!” 

The auto translate kicked in quickly. The language was new, but the intonations gave away more meaning than the literal words. 

The mob closed in. 

Arcee’s voice limited itself to the cab. 

“What should we do?” She whispered. “This was not the plan!” 

“Advice: none.”

“Really helpful.”

“Request: Open passenger door.”

“Are you kidding me?” Arcee hissed. “You don’t know what-“ 

The leader pointed his sword at the windshield. “Get out of the car or we will destroy you!” 

“Request: open passenger door.”

“I’m assuming you’ve got some really good plan and you’re not just trying to get killed.” 

Arcee sighed, and the passenger door swung open. 

The warriors to her side jumped back, as though she were made of acid, and the stereo fell out of the seat. 

“There’s no driver!” 

The stereo began to unfurl in a flurry of blue and silver metal, until Soundwave stood. 

He adjusted his transformation to stay at their height, and he stared at the leader at eye level through his visor. 

Immediately, spears and crude knives were being pointed at him, and poked at his armor. 

The figures watched with hardened eyes as he slowly raised his empty hands. 

“Intentions: Peaceful.” 

A gust of wind blew across them, flinging sand and rocks at their cloaks and armor. The leader’s face was set into a snarl. 

“Take off your armor!” 

“Request: Impossible.” 

Soundwave’s helm was yanked back by his audial fins. He managed not to scream as one of the hooded figures tried to yank his helm off with all of its strength. 

“Cease.” 

“The helmet’s not coming off!” 

“It’s a destra! Throw it in with the others!” 

“Intentions: peaceful,” he reiterated, but two large Phomians grabbed his arms, and rammed a glowing rod into his back. 

His vision exploded into magenta and cyan, his entire body felt as though it were being eaten from the inside out by scraplets, each one burning on his neural lines. A garbled static scream burned through his vox for a mere moment, and then he was forced into a shut down. 

Arcee felt her spark stop, her tires spun ready to race towards him, but before she could shoot off another rod thudded against her hood, and she too was forced into a shut down. 

“Send them to the compound with the others!” 

The leader stepped forward and spat on Arcee’s windshield. 

“Heretics!”

* * *

Bumblebee stood in front of Soundwave’s quarters with a cube under his arm. 

Though he was not Soundwave’s first choice for this job, he had volunteered to do it if he could not. It was the right thing to do in his eyes, and so, he did it gladly. 

He stepped into his quarters. 

They were dark and silent. More silent than he thought was possible on the ship. Not even the usual electric hum of the engine penetrated the room, and as soon as he turned the lights on, he knew why. 

The entire room had been padded with signal-proof spikes of foam, even the floors. But he had left a little pathway between his bed, his washroom, the entrance, and the kitchen. 

A pair of red eyes lit up as soon as Bumblebee stepped in.

Laserbeak was perched on a hanging stand beside Soundwave’s berth. He spread his wings out in an impressive display of metal plumage. A warning. 

Bumblebee held up his hands in surrender. 

“Hey I’m just the waiter, I’m your friend.” 

Laserbeak did not seem convinced. 

Bumblebee moved slowly to set down the cube, and pop open the lid. The energon inside cast a faint blue glow into the dim quarters. 

“See buddy? Just here to bring you some food. That’s all.” 

Laserbeak let out another warning caw, his jaw opened wide enough to expose the charging canon inside. 

Bumblebee scrambled to get away. “Alright, okay, yeah. Yeah we’ll talk later.” 

As soon as he was on the other side of the door he relaxed. 

Laserbeak cawed again. He jumped, and quickly shook it off.

* * *

Optimus sat in his ready room. It was a little more barren than his quarters, but it was ideal for working. He tapped idly on the desk. 

His monitor was filled with the corrupted data for Phomia. The more he stared at it, the less convinced he was of something natural eroding the data. It looked more like a sloppy expungement. 

Whatever detangling algorithms he could think of he had already tried on the data, but the mess never became more clear or structured. The data was completely garbled, intentionally, but non-algorithmically. 

In fact, this was not the only planet whose data seemed to have been corrupted intentionally. A few files he had come across had the strange garbage data inserted into it. 

These findings he had elected to keep from Megatron. He already believed ill of the council, and he would only believe the file corruption was intentional despite the lack of true evidence to support it. 

He didn’t enjoy keeping secrets from his commander, but it was what it was. 

The computer bleeped again. Another algorithm had finished, but the mess remained messy.

* * *

System reboot: complete 

Soundwave’s optics onlined, and the light from them illuminated the empty space with a soft red light. 

Time elapsed: 9.7 hours. 

1.2 hours remaining.

He had to get out of here, and quickly. But what exactly was ‘here’? 

From the few things his optics could discern in the low light, he was in a small space. Small even for his modified mass. He experimentally stretched a leg. It was able to touch the walls, but his pede brushed against something that dangled. Wires, he assumed. 

He patted the ground. His servos made a ‘clunk’ noise against it, and then there was a slow shifting noise as it resettled. 

He realized with some disappointment that he was sitting in a pile of garbage, right at the top of the chute. If he mass converted, he could easily reach the surface of it however. 

“Ah ?” 

He turned sharply and looked down from his place on the pile to see another hooded figure below. One glowing eye peered out from beneath the hood, wide and curious. 

Soundwave shifted, and carefully maneuvered himself off the pile. His escape could wait a moment. 

The hooded figure stared for a moment. And then two arms came out of the fabric and gave enthusiastic claps. Four eyes glowed in the dim light. 

The figure chirped happily. 

“You— A-Are here too!”

The translation program was working correctly, but the being’s voice was decidedly feminine and glitched. It was as though she were speaking to him through a long metal pipe that was being covered up every so often. 

“Designation: Soundwave.” 

“Soundwa—ve! Soundw-avee!” She cheered, as though his name was some precious prize she had just won. “I a-amm Yarra!” 

“Understood. Illuminate.” 

He engaged the headlights at the top of his chassis, and the pit was filled with light. 

It was all piles of technological garbage. Broken screens and keyboard like things, but mostly the trash was made up of metal semi-circles with straps hanging off them.

Soundwave picked one up. One one side it was a smooth, shined chrome. On the other there were many configurations of holes, and wires dangled from the sides. Some of the wires had a murky yellow substance crusted to the ends of them. Decidedly organic waste. 

“Explanation?” 

Yarra held one of the masks in front of her face. 

“It —waaas a pleasure system.” She picked up the tubes one by one. “T-t-this tube was for water, this one for nutrients, and this o-o-one was for the network.”

Soundwave raised an eyebrow. 

She set the mask down again, with a strange kind of gentleness. 

“T-Hhheeeyyyy used it too much, so other people came and wiped them out.” She patted her chest. “My vocali- voc- my sound doesn’t work for l-l-long.”

Truly, he felt for her. But to express the depth which he hurt for the girl would have taken more time than he currently had. 

“Circumstances: Unfortunate.” 

“Th-anks.” 

She seemed to understand him regardless. 

“What is the purpose of the tall computers?”

“They were i-I-interfaces for the pleasure shiellllllds.” She rubbed her neck with a pained expression. 

“Have they been converted to signal dampeners?”

She nodded. 

That answered that mystery once and for all. But it did little for their current predicament. 

“Is anyone else down here?”

She shook her head. 

“Understood. Commencing escape.”

Yarra cheered with a whispering voice and pumped all four of her hands in the air. He braced himself and began climbing the pile of trash he had landed on.

* * *

With his avenues to recover the data exhausted, Optimus had returned to the bridge. Megatron sat, broodingly as ever, staring at the planet. Optimus could share some of his sentiment. 

“They should be back by now,” he grumbled. 

“I share your unease, but there is still plenty of time for them to return.” 

Megatron’s fists closed. “How can we just sit here and do nothing?” 

“Shockwave is working to find a way around the dampeners,” Optimus assured him, “And we know that Soundwave and Arcee are doing the same.” 

“We should just go in!” 

“No,” he said firmly. “We don’t know how they would take an action like that, and we don’t know how advanced they are as a civilization. They may even detect someone trying to interfere with their dampening field from here. Until we know more about them, we’ve got to tread lightly.” 

Megatron did not look any more convinced. He stared at the planet, a bear watching one of his cubs wander into a cavern. 

Optimus let out a breath. “Although it is difficult, we will continue to wait. They may bring good news.” 

Megatron only continued to stare, but he knew that look. His mind was calculating, running all the data and strategizing accordingly. 

If they didn’t come back soon, Megatron would see to it that the planet paid the price. And only Optimus would stand between them and certain annihilation. Optimus was no longer certain he could stop Megatron, but more importantly, any action abord their ship would ripple back to Cybertron, and threaten the fragile peace they had established over the millennia. 

The whole bridge was frozen, watching their captain and commander. 

Optimus cleared his vox and turned back to his datapad.

* * *

Arcee’s systems came back online hours later, and when they did, she wished that they had not. Her entire chassis ached, and she felt the armor on her hood had an especially hard pressure on top of it. All the buildings were pointing downward now, into the red sand that was much too close. 

She was upside down, like a beetle caught on its back. Her entire body was covered in scratches and dents, all her windows had been shattered and the glass littered her interior. All of that she could have dealt with, but her doors were flung open. One of them only holding on by a single support latch and blue energon had since crusted on the remaining hinges. 

Still not the worst shape she had woken up in, but one never likes to repeat these things. 

“Okay,” she said to herself softly. “So this sucks, but where’s Soundwave?” 

Only the silence and the wind whistling through the monoliths answered. 

Her first order of business was to flip over, but to do that she needed to close her doors. 

Experimentally she jiggled one. Pain immediately shot through her entire side at the motion, and the energon gumbying her joints made each miniscule motion that much more grating. 

“Okay, on three. One-“ 

She grit her teeth and slammed her doors closed. A scream threatened to break through her vox, but she swallowed the sound. 

It took her a few minutes to recover herself from that, but she was still upside down. 

That problem was easier to fix. 

She glanced around, certain no one else was watching before she began to rock back and forth on her hood. Once she had gained enough momentum, she partially kicked out a leg and tossed herself back onto her wheels. 

It only agitated the pain in her doors and let a fresh drip of energon leak from her sides, but it was worth it to be upright again. 

When her processor had recovered sufficiently from that too, she began to assess the situation. Soundwave was nowhere to be found. 

As useless as it felt, she sent a signal out into the air. 

>> Soundwave if you’re getting this, ping me back. 

Nothing. Less than nothing. Only silence once again. 

“Okay, the old-fashioned way then.” But even as she said it, the hope was dying in her words. 

Cautiously, she began to roll forward over her own broken glass and energon. There was a crunch as her tires passed over it, and she already knew what Ratchet was going to say once she made it back. 

There was another crunch. 

Then another. Like footsteps. 

She stopped in her tracks, but it was too late. 

A boy stood behind her, all four of his eyes wide and angry, and undeniably proud of his find. He had a glowing staff in his hand, like the one from before. He raised it above his head and sucked in a deep breath. 

“Heretic!” He cried out, and the sound echoed between the pillars. 

All at once the mob seemed to re-materialize, and charge for Arcee. Their rods and maces sticking up in the air. 

“So much for stealth,” she murmured. 

Her tires spun out on the sand, kicking red dust at the mob, before speeding off into the dense city. 

>> Soundwave, please tell me you’re out there. 

The mob continued to scream insults into the night, only some of which could be translated.

* * *

The top of the vents shot up into the sky with a pop, and Soundwave emerged. He dipped his hand back into the hole, and effortlessly helped pull Yarra to the surface. 

The wind blew back her hood for a moment, and she made a small, gleeful noise. She raised her palms to touch the air as though it were something holy. 

She made another choked noise, as though she wanted to speak, but her voice modification was not through recharging.   
“Mission: find Arcee.” 

The girl tilted her head. 

“Arcee: crewman.” 

She did not look any less confused. 

It was not uncommon for the universal translator to attempt to say words that did not exist in the target language. It was a guessing machine at best, and the instructions themselves warned of possible mistranslation. 

Approximation then would have to suffice. 

“Arcee: friend.” 

Yarra seemed to understand that one, she nodded enthusiastically. 

She looked so like Rumble in that moment, but he managed to tamp down the familiar ache. 

The city silence was overwhelming, oppressive almost, but he kept his audials listening. Hoping to catch even a hint of a sound wrapped around the planet’s surface, but there was nothing. 

Soundwave resigned himself that finding Arcee in all the city may take time, until he caught a stutter of a ping. A residue wrapped around the pillar’s own tiny, tiny gravity.

>> S wv e, I

It was impossible to tell the direction the ping had come from in its damaged state. Luckily, a screaming wasn’t far behind. He could see a dust cloud in the distance, and the hooded figures making a chase through the city. 

Yarra scrambled to hide behind Soundwave. 

>> Arcee: Location, 100 by 200.2.2 from your current position. 

The dust plume became bigger, until a pink blur could be seen leading the charge followed by a mob of hooded figures baring torches, knives, and something close to a mace. 

The pink car’s tires squealed as she came to a stop and made a turn so hard that it would have thrown the wheels off anything else. 

Yarra screamed as it flinged dirt at them, and then popped open it’s doors with a pained sound. 

Soundwave climbed in, but Yarra hesitated. The four eyes that peered under her hood were wide, and scared. 

“Designation: Arcee.” 

“Fr-iieennd!” 

She climbed in quickly beside Soundwave. 

“Wait, who’s this?” 

“Designation: Yarra. Former prisoner.” 

Arcee revved her engine. “What are we supposed to do with her?” 

“Suggestion: Return with her to Horizon.” 

The crowd was getting louder behind them. Yarra’s eyes watched fearfully through the back windshield. 

It would be Optimus’ problem then. “Works for me!” 

Arcee sped off, back towards their shuttle. 

“We can’t launch or hail, but we can probably fix a laser blast to let them know where we are, like a beacon.” 

“Negative.” 

“Wait, why?” 

A shadow enveloped them, large enough to cast the entire crater into darkness. 

Even the mob went silent. 

The UCS Horizon hovered above the city, making a slow descent. The engines beneath it’s wings were close enough to see the glow through the green fog. 

A proper angel of death. 

“Time: 0 hours remaining.” 

“Slag- Megatron’s going to order an attack! We won’t make it to the shuttle in time to call him off!” 

“Backup plan: Disable dampers at city center. 1009.1 by 2990.11.1.” 

Coordinates behind her. 

That would mean turning around completely, and while the mob was transfixed by the ship hovering above them, they would not be once she started to race back through their home. 

Briefly, she wondered if it would really be all that bad to leave them to Megatron’s mercy, but she quickly pushed that thought out of her mind. 

Her tires squealed, and she sped back towards the city. 

The Horizon’s dark shadow blocked out the rising sun.

* * *

“There’s no sign of them sir, the scanners just can’t penetrate this. Even if we were right next to them, there’s no guarantee we would be able to know,” Starscream said frantically, his silver talons tapping away. 

“Continue to scan,” Optimus said, staring at the monitor. 

Beside him, Megatron was fuming. His glare hot enough to melt the plating off a shuttle. He was restrained for now, but Optimus knew that if he could not track Soundwave down again, it could mean the end for the little race on this planet. 

A monster with a bit in his mouth was only an illusion, he always controlled his handler. 

“Sir, we’re picking up energon!” 

“Someone’s hurt,” Bumblebee said, and he immediately regretted it. 

Megatron stood with his hands clenched into fists. His optics were white hot with a restrained rage, the kind that Optimus had witnessed too many times to count, and barely come back alive from. 

“Prepare the weaponry,” he growled.

* * *

Yarra pointed frantically to the tallest building among the pillars, mouthing something but her vox only let out a glitched whisper. 

“Connnntrol!” She finally managed. 

“Got it!” 

Arcee raced there and opened her doors. It hurt, and the mere motion re-opened her wounds and left a small puddle of energon beneath them. Blue blood dripped off the sides. 

Soundwave examined it on his fingers. 

“Arcee: Medical attention required.” 

“I’ll be fine but your boss is gonna blow this place away if he thinks we’re dead- Go!” 

Soundwave nodded, and he raced into the building, following behind Yarra. 

They raced into a rectangular access port on the side, just barely large enough for them both to squeeze into. 

The inside was somehow even less inviting than the outside. It was damp, damp enough for the black walls to be covered in condensation, and the floor had a thin layer of water all throughout. Wires dangled from the ceiling, with water dripping off them. 

It was lit by what little green light could come in through the gaps in the plating, and the wind only made the wires move and shake off their drops. It looked more like a rainforest corridor than a computer. 

Yarra’s footsteps splashed forward as she led him through the tight, dark maze and up through the building. 

They arrived in a room with a massive control panel, and monitors embedded in the walls. They all showed a blank, red screen, casting the entire room in red. As Soundwave got closer, he could see that it was words written in an angular language he could not recognize. 

All four of Yarra’s arms emerged from the cape, and she furiously began typing on the four circular keyboards embedded on the panels. 

Soundwave reluctantly turned and faced the entrance to guard her. 

Already he could hear the sounds outside, the distinct noise of a transformation echoing through the walls, but there were hiccups. Jarringly grating noises, and Arcee’s pained cries. 

Soundwave pulled his blaster from his hip and readied it at the door. 

Violence against other races had been strictly forbidden aboard the UCS Horizon, except in three unique circumstances as described by Optimus Prime. 

Self defense when all other options have been exhausted.   
Defense of a hurt or injured crew member when all other options have been exhausted.   
Defense of a less developed life form or civilization when all other options have been exhausted. 

He had to say with some confidence that this fell into all three categories. 

Arcee’s cries echoed through the damp computer core while Yarra furiously typed, accompanied by the screams of ‘heretic.’ 

‘Heretic, heretic, heretic.’ Arrhythmic, and noisy, and the sound echoed in ways that were unholy to Soundwave. There was no way to escape the noise, the sounds from outside. They all filtered in through the gaps in the plating and bounced between the circuit boards and wires and water. 

The temptation to cover his audials and return to some silence was overwhelming, but he managed to fight it. If nothing else, for the girl behind him typing away. Her noise was acceptable, so he focused on that. 

He kept his vision ever forward, his spark beating hard. 

He didn’t want to let Megatron down. 

Arcee fought bitterly outside. Thuds, metal hitting metal, and finally the charge of an electric gun. 

Warning shots fired high into the sky, and then the chanting overtook her. 

The light outside was getting fainter still, and the air began to heat with electricity. The UCS Horizon was charging it’s weapons. 

This was it, this was the fight or die. If they touched him with those rods it would be over, or more to the point, the water he was standing in. If he passed out, he would be obliterated by Megatron. 

The water. 

Yarra was standing on a platform above the water to type, her feet were on solid ground, but there was still metal connecting her to the building. 

He ripped wires from the ceiling and made a quick mess of them between his fingers. 

“Yarra, place these beneath your feet.” 

“Feet?” 

Another failure of the universal translator. He pointed down to the bottom of her cloak. 

“. . . Walking utensils.” 

“Oh!” 

Obediently, she let him slip the wires underneath where she was standing. They were rubber and put insulated distance between her and the metal.

Before he could explain further the building became filled with intolerable noise. Clanking and clicking, and the chanting. The horrible, grating chanting. 

“Heretics! Heretics! Heretics!” 

Their feet splashed the water, and he could already see the ripples forming from where he was standing. He ripped more wires out from the ceiling, enough to stand above the liquid on his own nested mess of rubber piping. 

The chanting was getting louder, and louder, and vibrated through the walls. It made the very air in his cooling system tremble, and his audials felt as though they were going to short out at any moment, but he couldn’t turn down their sensitivity any further. 

Tap, tap, tap. 

“Heretics!” 

The hum. 

Tap, tap, tap. 

“Heretics!” 

Clanking, beating of metal against metal. 

Tap, tap- 

It was so loud. He ground his denta together and held his hands against his audials but it was too much. His audials popped, and hissed, and then died. 

Silence. 

He could feel their footsteps through the floor. They had already burst into the control room. 

He squinted against the pain, energon leaking down the sides of his helm, and fired at the first one he saw. 

The rod electrified the air, mere inches from his face. A boy, a young one. Even younger than Yarra, but four times as fierce. All four of his eyes were illuminated by the staff as he locked his hands against Soundwaves to push him aside. 

Easily, he could have killed this organic thing. But staring at it’s furious face, it’s mouth contorted into a scream he couldn’t hear, he could not bring himself to deliver the blow.

As gently as he could manage, he wrestled the staff from the boy. He could feel the joints the boy’s fingers cracking, or breaking. There was no difference between hurting a lifeform and comforting them, except for the sound. 

The world was silent, and two dimensional. 

Soundwave pushed the boy away with a hand square to his chest. He hit the back wall hard enough for his face to contort in pain, before his hood fell to cover him again. But already more hooded figures were hustling to burst inside. 

Soundwave lifted the staff high above the water, and pushed it into the liquid. 

Blue light arched out into the water, and stretched over every wet surface. The figures in the doorway jerked, and writhed, their faces set in silent screams as they stared at the dark ceilings above. They fell into the water. One after the other, like watching lightbulbs pop in sequence. 

The staff became hot, and then burst into sparks and white light, but there was no sound. Only the heat searing against his helm. 

He let the dead staff fall out of his hands. 

Behind him, the screens had turned blue. Yarra stood triumphantly, pointing at them. She was saying something, her mouth was twisting and pushing air, but none of the sound reached him. 

Soundwave’s knees buckled. 

Yarra fell beside him. Her shoulders heaved, and she held his helm with the same kind of reverence that she had held the face shields. 

She was screaming, and her noise was vibrating on the water. 

And was she crying? 

She could not be crying for something like him. He always hated when organics did that. Still, in his perfect silence, he somehow wished he could hear the sound. What did it sound like? For an organic to cry for him. 

His visor slowly dimmed.

* * *

“I know you’re done rebooting you stubborn thing.” 

There was a soft tap against his helm. When Soundwave’s optics onlined again, he was staring up at the ceiling of medbay, where Ratchet was shining a light down on him. 

He could hear the equipment humming, the engines idling, Knockout’s rich laughter, and a voice he couldn’t recognize. Slowly, he brought himself to sit up. 

The medbay was alive with activity. Arcee was tapping away at a report on her datapad. She gave him a small wave when he looked up. He simply nodded back. 

And on the other side, Yarra was sitting. She too had a datapad in her hand, one just like his, but smaller, and retrofitted with the circular keyboards she had used at the control tower. Optimus was sitting on her berth, observing her use it, and listened to her chatter about what had went on with rapt attention. 

Her voice was clear now, like a bell. It had an airy quality to it. 

Her eyes lit up when she saw him. 

“Soundwave!” 

He saved the sound as soon as he heard it and duplicated the memory for good measure. 

“Yarra.” 

“They fixed you! And they fixed me- And they fixed Arcee!” 

“I fixed you,” Knockout said, with his hand pressed against his chest. “Let’s not forget that little detail my dear.” 

“Thank you!” 

“I like her, she’s nice. Appreciative. Unlike some people around here.” Knockout pouted at Optimus. “Can we keep her?” 

Yarra looked up to Optimus as well, all four of her eyes in full puppy dog mode. If any of them knew what a puppy dog was. But he shook his helm slowly. Though she barely could see over his thigh, the effect was enough to give the prime a pause. 

“I am afraid we cannot.” 

“Pity,” Knockout said with a pout. 

“She will have to return home, but, she will be equipped with the supplies and technology required to repair the hardware of Phomia.” 

Arcee let out a bitter laugh and rolled her shoulder. “Sir, if you send her back there, they’re going to do to her what they did to us.” 

Yarra shook her head. 

“They are more open now, to the technology. They have been beaten by it. Phomian honor demands that they conq… concor.. They have to beat it now! Which means tame it!” 

She stood on her feet proudly, holding her little tablet close to her chest. Optimus cupped her back with his palm. 

“We’re gonna rebuild, we’re gonna find ways to help people with this stuff, and we’re gonna get rid of all the pleasure shields!” 

Soundwave glanced pointedly at Optimus and raised an eyebrow. 

“Do not worry, she will be able to contact the UCS Horizon whenever necessary. She has been equipped with our communications technology.” 

“Yeah!” Yarra was only looking at Soundwave though. Her innocent smile bled into all of her eyes. “I’ll send you lots of texts!” 

Soundwave nodded. 

“Yarra: Crewman.” 

“Friend!” 

“Parameters acceptable.” 

Behind the mask however, he was smiling. 

Yarra continued to babble excitedly, answering Optimus questions, and Knockout’s, and explaining their history and culture. 

“- And the war! And then I got really hurt, so I had to put the electronic stuff in me, but it didn’t hurt!” 

“That was very brave of you,” Optimus said soberly. 

“It was!” She nodded her head. “And then I got cast out, because I was a heretic, and so they put me in the dumpster, and I lived there forever and ever and ever, and then I met Soundwave, and then he got me out! And then-“

Ratchet leaned against a table and sighed. “As soon as Knockout fixed the kid’s vocal component, she wouldn’t stop talking.” 

Soundwave tilted his helm slightly as Yarra motioned with her hands, her voice full of wonder and light. 

He shook his head. 

“It is preferable.”


End file.
